The New Missfit
by Dragonfly-Moonlight
Summary: Things come to a head within the band, the Missfits. Will things ever be the same again? Will they survive?
1. Leaving

"Okay, ladies. One more song and rehearsal's over."

"Good," came the good-natured grumble. "I'm hungry."

The small group of women laughed then the drummer tapped her sticks.

"Okay, here we go! On four . . . One . . . two . . . one, two, three, four!"

At their cue, guitars strummed, the keyboards began to play, and the bass and drums kept the beat as the five women began to play. The holidays were fast descending on the city of Philadelphia, and the struggling band had suddenly seen an increased number of bookings and shows. Schools, bars, business Christmas parties . . . they had a gig for every day of the week, it seemed.

'Which is good,' thought the bassist, a blonde-haired woman who had died blue and purple streaks in her hair. 'We need all the help we can get!'

_The Carol of the Bells_ rang out as they played . . .

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"_Making mischief . . . we're making mischief . . . Making mischief . . . We're really making mischief!"_

The Missfits finished their set then waved to the crowd. They were being cheered for an encore, but Eric had made it clear that they couldn't anymore. He had docked their pay the last time they had performed an encore and ended up missing a flight to their next gig.

Stormer paused for a moment then gave one final wave to the audience. She enjoyed the success the Misfits had obtained over the years but lately began to feel like it wasn't enough anymore. Something was missing, something she couldn't identify.

"Come on, Stormer!" Pizaazz snapped at her. "We're going to be late arriving at the airport. _Again_."

"Coming," the blue-haired keyboardist sighed. She trailed behind her bandmates.

'Something has _got_ to give. I can't keep living like this.'

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Pizzazz shot Stormer the dirtiest look she could muster as they, along with Jetta and Roxy, climbed into the limo that would take them to the airport. She completely ignored Roxy as the bassist muttered about being glad to finally leave. Stormer had been extremely quiet as of late, her performance as their keyboardist had become less than satisfactory, and her writing had become dull, almost crappy in her opinion. Pizzazz _hated _it.

"If you have something to say, Pizzazz, just say it," the blue-haired woman murmured, keeping her attention focused out the window. "You're annoying the hell out of me."

"I'm . . . annoying . . . the hell out of you?" Pizzazz blinked before sneering, "You're the one who's becoming annoying, Stormer. What the hell has gotten into you? Your songwriting has become shitty lately and your playing sucks! Keep this up and we'll never be able to beat that pink-haired bitch, Jem! Ever! Is that what you want? For us to fail?!"

"What I want, Pizzazz, is to _make_ music and to be true to my own heart," Stormer snapped, her blue eyes now glaring hotly at her. All conversation had stopped as Jetta and Roxy focused on the two. "I'm sorry if that _displeases_ you."

Pizzazz gaped at the blue-haired keyboardist. Not once, in all of the years the Missfits had been together, had Stormer _ever_ taken that kind of a tone with her. Sure, she had gotten frustrated when she felt no one had taken her seriously, but that had been expected. Stormer had wanted respect, had only gotten that in the last few years when she'd started showing a bit of a backbone, but that had only been to a certain degree. Now she had snapped at Pizzazz, something very ever did and got away with.

'Which she will not,' Pizzazz growled to herself.

Her rage boiling, the green-haired woman beat on the glass that separated them from the driver. Before it had even rolled halfway down, she shrieked, "Pull over!"

As soon as the limo had come to a stop, Pizzazz pointed to the door. Her entire form shook with the rage that had burned its way to the surface. Roxy and Jetta could only watch, wide-eyed, while Pizzazz snarled, "Get out. Get out of this car NOW!"

"Gladly!" Stormer retorted, her own cheeks flushed. "And don't bother to even send me stuff! Keep it! I don't need you!"

The door swung open then slammed shut before anyone could put in a word edgewise.

"Good riddance," Pizzazz whispered to the now vacant seat, her own eyes as wide as her bandmates. Her rage had disappeared suddenly, leaving a cold feeling settling in her stomach.

'Oh my god, what have I done?'

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Stormer sighed as her eyes adjusted to the dim lights of the bar, a female band playing loudly in the background. She had finally crossed the line with Pizzazz and had gotten herself kicked out of the Missfits. There was no going back. Not this time.

'That's all right,' she told herself, allowing a bit of a smile to creep onto her face. 'I don't need them. I may have thought I did but I don't . . . not anymore. I don't need them and they don't need me. I can start over. Here in Philadelphia. Do what I really want to do.'

Feeling better than what she had for some time, Stormer made her way to the bar, listening as the local female band played . . .


	2. Finding the Way

"What?!"

Pizzazz glared at the dark-haired man across from her. She had just told their manager that she had kicked Stormer out of the band . . . while in the middle of a major tour across the U.S. Eric was not taking it very well.

"I kicked Stormer out of the band," she repeated. "We have no keyboardist."

"And . . . _why_ . . . did you kick Stormer out of the Missfits?" Eric all but growled out. Pizzazz straightened her back and gazed at him directly in the eye.

"Because she no longer has what it takes to be a Missfit anymore. Her writing has gone downhill in the last several months as has her playing. Her interests no longer coincide with the band's interests. That's why."

For a moment, he just stood there, shocked. Then his cheeks turned bright red and he started to sputter.

"Just like that?" he managed to get out. "You kicked her out _just like that_? Have you any idea as to what you've done or how much we have to pay her for breach of contract?!"

"What I've done," she spat back, "is liberate our band. She was holding us back. As for the breach of contract, Eric, _you're_ the one who has to pay her. Not the band."

She turned her back to him and stormed towards the door. Before he could another word in edgewise, and she knew that he would, Pizzazz turned back around to face him.

"Oh, and if you even so much as _think_ of docking our pay to compensate for Stormer, you'll be looking for a new band to manage, Eric . . . if you can. I'm tired of all your bullshit."

"Like you really need the money," he snapped.

"But Roxy and Jetta do," Pizzazz retorted. "Like I said, if you even think of docking our pay, Eric, you'll be out of a job. And you'll be lucky if you can manage a restaurant."

Having said that, she whirled around and stormed out, Jetta and Roxy on her heels.

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From across the street, Jerrica Benton watched what appeared to be a rather heated scene between Pizzazz and Eric. Jetta and Roxy were with her but there was no sign of Stormer.

The Missfits had just come back on a break from a rather extensive tour, and rumour had it that the blue-haired keyboardist was no longer part of the band. Jerrica, however, wasn't really one to believe rumours. She also wasn't going to believe it until Pizzazz decided to try something. Just because she didn't see Stormer with the group didn't necessarily mean the woman was gone.

As she watched Pizzazz storm out of Eric's office, Jerrica's brow furrowed. The other two Missfits were following behind the green-haired singer, their eyes a bit wide. Whatever had just transpired, it was apparent the other two had not been expecting it. She turned away and sat down at her desk, pulling out the files she needed for the day. Unlike Eric, Jerrica had work to do. Honest work, and she intended to get it done.

After she had her files, Jerrica set about her work. Then she paused for a moment then grabbed an extra notepad. Whatever the Missfits had in store, she had to find a way to counter it. Because whatever they had in mind didn't bode well for her and the Holograms. Of this Jerrica was sure.

'I'm not about to be outmaneuvered by a bunch of halfwits,' she thought, scribbling down some ideas. 'Not at all.'

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"That was bloody _brilliant_," Jetta breathed once they had stepped onto the elevator. "Absolutely brilliant!"

"Yeah," Roxy chimed in. "I've never seen you so riled up before, Pizzazz. Way to go!"

"Yeah, yeah," Pizzazz murmured, shaking her head at their joy. She really wasn't in the mood to be celebrating a tiny victory over Eric Raymond. "Whatever."

The two women stared at her for a moment, the elevator becoming silent. Then Roxy spoke up.

"This has to do with Stormer, doesn't it?"

"Huh?" Pizzazz blinked as she looked at the white-haired guitarist.

"Whatever's eating at you. It has to do with Stormer . . . doesn't it? I mean, you two did know each other for a very long time . . ."

Pizzazz opened her mouth to reply then paused. Did it have to do with Stormer? Sure, the fight with their former keyboardist had stunned her but, now that she got to thinking about it and had gotten over the initial shock, she believed it to be for the better. Stormer, though she had what it took to be a Missfit, was no longer a true Missfit. At least, not in the sense that she, Roxy, and Jetta were. Their paths had taken different directions a long time ago. Stormer's playing and writing over the last year or so had been proof of that. The argument, and Stormer leaving/being kicked out of the band, had been a long time in coming. Pizzazz knew that. No, whatever was eating away at her, as Roxy had just put it, went deeper.

"No," she finally shook her head. "It has nothing to do with Stormer."

"You sure?" Jetta frowned.

"Yeah," Pizzazz nodded. "I'm sure. In fact, I hope that, whatever she's doing now, she's happy."

"Then what's wrong?" Roxy prompted. "I've never seen you stick up for us like that."

"Yeah," Jetta chimed in. "Neither have I. What gives?"

To that, Pizzazz shrugged.

"I'm tired of Eric docking your pay all the time. You have bills to pay like everyone else. It isn't fair that he should do that to you when you guys weren't even part of what had happened. That's all."

"That's all?" the guitarist echoed. "So what are we going to do now? We need a keyboardist to finish the rest of our tour!"

Pizzazz fell silent for a moment, though she already knew the answer. She just had to be sure it was what she truly wanted. Then she glanced at them both.

"We'll hire a session keyboardist for the rest of the tour. After that, we'll . . . take some time off. Have a little fun." To that, the other girls laughed. "Then we'll look for someone new. But only after the tour is finished. Okay?"

Roxy and Jetta nodded just as the elevator reached the lobby and the doors slid open. Satisfied with her decision, Pizzazz exited the building, feeling better than what she had in a very long time.

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"This is the last one for today, Torie," came the quiet and tired response. "She's a keyboardist . . . been in a band before. Says she wants to try something new."

"Okay," the blonde-haired woman sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Send her in."

The guy at the door nodded then stuck his head out. A moment later, a blue-eyed, blue-haired woman stepped in. She took a seat before the two women and gave them a nervous smile.

"Okay," Torie murmured, leaning forward to look at the paper in front of her. "Mary, right?" When the other woman nodded, she continued. "Says here you were in another band . . . so you have some experience working in a group. That's a plus. Now . . . tell me . . . why do you want to join _our_ band and what makes you think you're qualified to do so?"


	3. Getting Back to the Basics

"What is it that you truly want?"

Stormer blinked at the question then focused her gaze on the one who had spoken, Torie O'Connell.

"What is it that I truly want?" she echoed, her eyes blinking. To that, Torie nodded.

"Yes. What is it that you truly want? What is it that you want to accomplish by joining our band?"

Stormer bit her lip as she thought about the question at hand and she had to admit that this was one of the strangest band auditions that she'd ever heard of. When she'd been a Missfit and were looking for someone to add to their band, they'd simply gone from bar to bar and club to club, looking for someone with that right sound and attitude. This . . . this was intense. There were so many things that she had to think about. What were her influences in music, why they had to pick her over everyone else, why she had become a musician in the first place . . . and now this question.

'What _is_ it that I truly want?' she mused. 'I know why I left the Missfits . . . the atmosphere was becoming too stifling . . . but is that why I want to join this band? I could always go solo . . . I don't know anymore.'

"I don't know," she finally stated, shrugging. "I know why I left the band that I was in . . . it wasn't allowing me to be as creative as I wanted it to be . . . and it was no longer about the fans or the music. It was about money . . . I guess I just wish to bring something to the band that maybe isn't here . . ."

"So you wish to get back to the basics. Is that what you're saying?" the other blonde, Val, inquired.

"Back to the basics?"

"Yes," Torie nodded. "In other words, because things were becoming too hectic in your other band and because things weren't working out the way that you'd have liked them to, you left. You want to get back to the basics of making music, which is playing for the love of the music and the satisfaction you get when you see the faces of the fans really enjoying what's being played."

As the blonde-haired woman spoke, Stormer felt something within her light up. Everything that she said happened to be true. That's _exactly_ what she wanted to do. She found herself nodding rather enthusiastically to everything Torie said.

"Yes," she agreed. "That's exactly it. How did you . . ."

"That tends to happen a lot, especially if a band goes from making a record to touring," Torie grinned. "That's what happened with the Bangles, after all. They, too, ended up having the same revelation that you're now having. There's absolutely nothing wrong with it, either. And just so you know, this is only the first part of the audition. We will be calling people back for a demonstration of their skills. Now then, I have one final question and you can go. If your bandmates were to call you back and ask you to rejoin them, would you do it?"

"No," Stormer shook her head. "I do still care about them and I hope that we can be friends again some day but I can't be in a band with them. Our goals have become too different . . . I can't go through that again."

"I see . . . Okay then. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you," Torie stood up at that moment and extended her right hand, "and a real treat to talk with you. Val and I will discuss the auditions with the rest of our band and we'll be giving out calls over the next few days."

"Thank you," Stormer smiled, shaking hands with the woman. Then she left the room as quietly as she had entered, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind.

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"I think we should give her a call back. At least give her a chance to prove herself," Torie murmured as she gathered up her folders and her tape recorder. "She certainly seems interested in being part of a team and having some kind of creativity."

"Yeah," Val nodded, helping her. "We could . . . I don't think she was telling us everything, though. You notice she didn't tell us that the band she'd been in had been the Missfits?"

"Oh, I noticed," Torie nodded, laughing a little. "Believe me, I noticed. And I think I know why she didn't tell us."

"Oh?" her bandmate raised an eyebrow at her, a light smirk on her face. "Do enlightenment me, Oh Educated One."

"She wants to be in a band based on her own merit. Not who she used to be. She's very serious about making music."

"I saw that," Val conceded. "However, it isn't entirely up to us."

"I know. Shall we?"

"Yes. Let's."

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Stormer moaned softly as the phone in her new apartment (something she had to scramble to get) rang. A quick glance at her clock told her that it was barely after nine in the morning and she felt the strong urge to strangle whoever was calling her. It was far too early in the morning, in her opinion, to be getting up.

'I don't want to get up,' she groaned as she reached over and picked up the phone.

"Hello . . ." she mumbled, not caring how sleepy she sounded.

"_Mary?"_

"Torie?" she blinked, some of her sleepiness vanishing in an instant. Surprise washed over her. She really hadn't been expecting to hear back from either her or Val.

'If she's calling me then it must mean . . .'

"_Yeah,"_ came the chuckle. _"Sorry to be calling you this early but I kind of needed to. We'd like for you to come back and play for us. Is today good?"_


	4. Auditions and Dreams Coming True

Pizzazz moaned softly as she sank into the plushness of her new couch.

It wasn't actually a brand new couch – Heaven only knew that she could afford the most expensive couch available but had decided against buying one that expensive – but it was new to her. She'd found it while driving around, trying to figure out how she and the Missfits were going to announce that they were looking for a new member for their band. Someone had been holding a yard sale and the couch was up for grabs. It looked so soft and comfy. It had practically called out to her.

'So glad I made the purchase,' she thought giddily. The tension from the day had practically oozed out of her as she sank into its depths. 'Now . . . to get myself back on track . . . we need a fourth Missfit . . .'

Truth be told, they really hadn't needed a fourth member to the band. She, Roxy, and Jetta had managed extremely well for the duration of their tour with only a session player. They had discussed it. Ultimately, they had decided they liked having a fourth member, someone whom they could harmonize and hang around with.

'The trick is to find the right person . . . with the right attitude and right look . . .'

For as easy as it sounded, Pizzazz knew that it wasn't going to be easy. She recalled how hard it had been for the Holograms to find a new drummer and she'd tried not to pay too much attention to the hoopla that had surrounded the fiasco. The last thing she wanted was to be accused of mimicking the Holograms once more.

'It's going to happen anyway,' she groused, her eyes drooping shut. 'We can't do anything on our own without being compared to them. Well . . . that's going to change. One way or another, it's going to change.'

The plushness of the couch still calling to her, Pizzazz drifted to sleep . . .

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Somewhere, there was a ringing noise. She heard it and it was telling her to wake up when she didn't want to.

Pizzazz opened her eyes as the ringing noise persisted and she realized that it was her phone ringing. Sighing softly, she reached over and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"_Pizzazz, you're not going to believe this!"_

"Roxy?"

"_Yeah. I had to call you . . . I just had the absolute _**perfect**_ idea for auditions! And you're not going to believe who it came from!"_

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"Are you sure this will work?" Jetta frowned, listening as Roxy explained once more the audition process.

"Absolutely," the white-haired woman nodded. "It's how Stormer ended up in the band she's in now!"

"Stormer's in another band?"

"Yeah . . . some band in Philadelphia . . . they call themselves Gothic Misconception."

"How do you know this?" Pizzazz inquired, quite curious. Roxy had told her once before but then she'd been half-asleep at the time.

"She called me to tell me . . . anyway, she was quite impressed with how thorough the two girls she talked to were. Kept gushing about it. It's quite efficient, too, according to her."

"Oh really?" Jetta smirked. "How so?"

"Think about it," she exclaimed. "You're finding out what the person is interested in . . . it's like having a boyfriend. You find out if you're compatible or not by asking all of the right questions."

"And it's also very discreet," Pizzazz murmured. "Something that really isn't our style . . ."

"The Holograms weren't discreet about finding a new drummer . . ."

"I know. I like it. So what exactly did this ad say?"


	5. Getting Everything Started

"Would you look at that line?" Kimber exclaimed, her gaze focused on something happening outside. Jerrica did her best to ignore her younger sister. After all, she didn't want to hear it.

Of course, she did know about the line outside Missfits Music just like she knew about the ad in the paper. What exactly was going on, she didn't know. She only knew what had been presented to her. Her eyes wandered back to the day's newspaper and the one ad that stuck out above all the rest.

_Wanted: Keyboardist  
Apply in person at Missfits' Music  
Monday-Friday, 9-5  
No phone calls_

It irked her to not know what exactly was going on over there. She'd been half-tempted to find out by using Synergy to disguise herself but had ultimately decided against it. If the Missfits found out, they could claim corporate espionage and it would make her look bad. It was something she couldn't afford to risk.

'Besides,' she reasoned, 'it doesn't say who the keyboardist is for.'

Still, she found this whole situation to be not to her liking. Something was going on. She'd already heard that all of Stormer's things had been packed and shipped out. Shipped to where, Jerrica hadn't been able to find out nor had she been able to find out why. The Missfits had immediately clamped down when it came to the media and the sudden turnabout had Jerrica nervous. Very nervous.

She had a feeling she was in for a very long and exhausting day.

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Eric fumed in impotent silence as he watched the Missfits interview one keyboardist after another.

His job was on the line.

Pizzazz had informed him that morning. His job was on the line.

Not just as their manager but as her record company's CEO. The emerald-haired woman had somehow wizened up to what he was doing and had issued an ultimatum. Either straighten his ass out or go to jail. Then she had quoted a line from the movie, _The Pacifier_, and had told him "No highway option."

Still, he found himself admiring the tenacity that she had shown him. Without him realizing it, she'd managed to discover the fact that he'd been embezzling money from her company. Pizzazz was displaying a strange strength of character, and another side to her that he never would have believed to have existed. She had a ruthless streak and a sense of loyalty, something he'd never seen her display.

And it had all started to come out after Stormer had left the band.

'Why is that?' he wondered. As far as he knew, Stormer had yet to return to Los Angeles and beg to return to the band. In fact, he knew that Pizzazz, Jetta, and Roxy had gone to her house and had packed her things, shipping them to Philadelphia. When he'd asked Pizzazz about it, she had simply shrugged and informed him that Stormer had found something that suited her better.

To hear that had led him to believe that Stormer had contacted one of them and requested her stuff at least. Then he'd found out that it hadn't been just to request her personal items. It had been to tell them about the new band she'd joined and how she had ended up as a member. Her excitement over it had somehow carried to the remaining Missfits and were now executing a similar approach.

A light smirk graced his features as he recalled the conversation he and Pizzazz had had before the ad in the paper appeared.

Auditions and interviews. Both. He had to admit that it was an excellent idea and wanted to shake the hands of the person who had thought of it. It meant that the girls could find the right person, be it a man or a woman, to add to the group. A like-minded personality to help keep the conflicts down to a minimum. They'd gotten lucky when they'd found Jetta. Eric knew as much. And the idea of keeping it low-key . . . absolutely delicious. A small part of him - the malicious and vindictive part - delighted in the idea.

'Jerrica must be going out of her mind, wondering what's going on,' he laughed to himself. 'Oh, how I wish I could see her face right now.'

He couldn't, though, and didn't want to, truthfully. As the band's manager, he needed to oversee the Missfits' current activities and that meant sitting in on the audition/interview process. As the CEO of Missfits Music, he had a stack of papers to get through and make sure that Pizzazz's company could run itself whenever he left with the band on tour.

'I can't keep working like this,' he thought idly, glancing at a particularly long document. 'Something needs to give.'

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"Now, remember," Pizzazz stated, handing the interviewee back his resume, "not a word of this to the media. We're trying to find the right person to take our former keyboardist's place and we don't need a bunch of wannabes coming in here."

"Understood," the man nodded, flashing her a rather warm smile. "You have my word."

Pizzazz found herself smiling back as he got up and headed towards the exit, the last interview for the day and the week. So far, the interview process had been running rather smoothly. And she had to admit, if only to herself, that she was having fun as well. Everyone that they had interviewed had a profound love of music and simply wanted an opportunity to display their talents. Some had even mentioned being able to play additional instruments and it made her wonder about how that could be worked into the band's layout. The unique sounds, unique personalities and looks . . . it gave her so many ideas, her head had practically begun to spin!

'Maybe we could add more than one member to the band,' she mused idly, stretching a little in her seat. As it had promised to be a rather long and tiring process, she'd opted to dress casually for the entire interviewing process. Jeans and t-shirts and comfortable shoes. No makeup. Oddly enough, so had Jetta and Roxy. It was like their minds had synced together somehow.

"Man, I'm starving!" Roxy sighed, standing up to stretch her limbs. Pizzazz laughed a little before focusing her attention on her band mates. "What sounds good to you two?"

"Let's just order pizza," Jetta replied, yawning a little. "I don't feel like agonizing over a menu right now."

"Agreed," Pizzazz nodded. "Then we can decide who we want to join."

"All right," Roxy murmured, moving towards the phone. "Do we have to pick just one, though? There were a couple of people I thought would be excellent choices. It'd be a shame to only pick one."

"Yeah," the saxist agreed. "Shame to have had everyone come in to pick only one. Too bad we couldn't have back-up bands in here or something."

"Back-up bands . . ."

As she spoke, Pizzazz's eyes traveled back to the lists and copied resumes that rested on the table top. It wasn't such a bad idea, after all . . .


	6. The Unveiling

"Hey, Eric . . ."

At the sound of Pizzazz's voice, he looked up, curious as to what she might have to say to him. It had been over a week since he'd last talked with and seen the green-haired woman. She'd given him a couple of different assignments at that time. The first had been to draft contracts. Why, he didn't know just yet but had decided to humour her and come up with something that she found pleasing. The second had been to hire a market analyst.

And the market analyst had a very specific job, too. Not only did whoever was hired have to research the kinds of music that people listened to but the person also to figure out how to project the sales into something that Missfits Music could sell. So far, the results of a week's worth of research had been staggering. Because of that research, he had an idea as to what Pizzazz might be up to.

"Yes, Pizzazz?" he inquired, setting down his pen. He also had to hide his shock. The woman before him no longer had green hair nor did she wear the garish makeup she'd been so fond of.

Instead, Pizzazz's hair colour had become a dark shade of brown, almost black, and had been high-lited blue. She'd also had it straightened out smooth and pulled into a rather simple yet elegant ponytail. Wearing a pair of ripped up blue jeans and a black tank top, Pizzazz no longer looked like an immature pop queen but a sexy and savvy rock goddess. He had to blink to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. Pizzazz smirked a little.

"Like the new look?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered, standing up. "It's quite . . . wow."

"Thanks," she smiled, sitting in the chair across from him. "You should see Roxy and Jetta. They look good, too."

"Good," Eric nodded. "That's very good. A new look will definitely help garner sales . . . which is what I'm guessing you're here to talk about. Correct?"

"Yep," Pizzazz confirmed. "How's the research coming along?"

"Staggering," he replied, rummaging through the files on his desk. He had the tentative results somewhere in the mess he called his business. "Very staggering. You were right to look into it. Missfits Music could increase its profits margins considerably by hiring more bands and appealing to the other genres out there. Now my question is . . . do you really want to do something like this? It _is_ a very risky adventure, after all."

To that, Pizzazz nodded.

"Absolutely," she stated. "Everyone who came in to audition for Stormer's position had talent. It'd be a shame not to give them a chance after what they've gone through."

"I take it you've decided on who you want to join the Missfits then."

"Yeah . . . and we've also decided on something else, too, Eric."

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow at her. "And what's that?"

"Well . . ." she began. "It's like this . . ."

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It was that time of night again in the Starlight Mansion. Everyone's favourite entertainment critic, Lindsay Pierce, was on the television and interviewing an up-and-coming band out of Philadelphia. Gothic Misconception, Kimber believed, and one of the members had looked surprisingly familiar to her. Just before the show had cut to commercial, Lindsay had commented about having a special treat for the viewing audience.

That had been two and a half minutes ago.

During the commercial break, Kimber wondered what the treat was that Lindsay had in mind. She had seemed somewhat reluctant in announcing it yet excited as well.

'She looked like she has when it comes to the Missfits,' the keyboardist mused. 'I hope it isn't them. They've caused Lindsay nothing but trouble.'

"That band had a nice sound," came the soft comment from behind her. "I wonder who produces them."

Aja. Kimber kept her eyes glued to the television.

"I don't know but they'd make an excellent addition to Starlight Music, wouldn't they?"

Shana.

"Their keyboardist looks familiar, though . . . don't you think so?"

Raya.

"Yeah," Kimber murmured. "That's what I was thinking."

"Mmm . . ."

That was the only sound that came from Jerrica. She sounded preoccupied to Kimber.

'Must be worried about what the Missfits are up to,' she told herself. 'Heck, I am, too. They've been quiet for far too long. Three months, at least. They're up to something.'

"I'll call the studio and find out more about that band," Jerrica murmured just as Lindsay's show came back on. "I'm sure they'd jump at the chance for a record deal."

"_And now,"_ Lindsay was saying, _"the moment everyone has been waiting for. Here they are with their brand new single, _My Couch_ . . . the Missfits!"_

A harsh and jangly-sounding guitar emanated from the screen as the camera quickly zoomed on the quintet performing on the stage. Kimber felt her jaw drop as the Missfits tore into their new song. The band that performed . . . was not the band she was used to seeing.

Vocally, nothing about the Missfits had really changed. However, instead of the usual three-part harmonies from Stormer, Roxy, and Jetta, they now had four part harmonies. Their voices were blending beautifully, accentuating Pizzazz's lead vocal.

What really shocked Kimber (and she was certain her bandmates were just as surprised as she) was the new set-up the Missfits had. There were three people on guitar – Pizzazz, Roxy, and a rather drop-dead sexy guy – and a girl banging on a white, old-fashioned drumset. Jetta still played her saxophone but the keyboardist had changed. Stormer no longer played for them. Instead, a petite little blonde was in her place.

The new keyboardist was the first to catch Kimber's attention, as it seemed so odd to her to not see Stormer among the Missfits. She had antique gold hair with green and pink high-lights that curled about her face and she also had a much slender build than the rest of the band. Stormy grey eyes caught the camera and the girl allowed herself a small smile. She also appeared to be about a foot shorter than the rest of the band. Kimber couldn't say for certain, not with the girl on drums sitting down.

Next to catch her attention was the male guitarist and Kimber found herself drooling just a little. He had a nice, medium-sized build and a well-toned chest. Light brown locks fell over his blue-green eyes and he played with considerable skill.

Third, the drummer caught her attention, a girl of Asian descent. Long dark hair had been high-lighted a bright red and dark eyes focused solely on keeping the beat. Whoever she was, she complimented Roxy in an outstanding way.

Finally, there was Pizzazz, Roxy and Jetta. None of them looked as they had three months ago.

Pizzazz sported smooth and straight dark hair with blue high-lights. Green eyes sparkled as she belted out the new song. Roxy's hair had become more blonde, almost the same as the new keyboardist's hair and was braided. Kimber thought it looked a little longer than normal. Finally, Jetta's hair remained the same colour but she'd gone with some gold high-lights. The wild makeup was gone and so where the chick clothes the Missfits used to wear. All five people playing wore jeans, some of which were ripped. Pizzazz wore a black, short-sleeved blouse with a denim vest over it. Roxy had opted for a white-lace t-shirt with a blue halter top underneath. Jetta wore a black tank top with the word "Vixen" in silver sequins over her chest. The guy wore a plain black tee while both the drummer and keyboardist sported blue wispy tops over tight-fitting, white bustiers.

Kimber blinked then shook her head, wondering if she was seeing things correctly. When nothing on the screen changed, she sat up and listened, her eyes narrowing. Now all would be revealed and perhaps so would where Stormer got to.

Four minutes later, the Missfits ended their song and took up seats with Gothic Misconception. There were cheers from the audience and some rather polite bows from the Missfits. Gothic Misconception – a five female band – stood up and applauded, making room for the Missfits. Both bands sat down and giggles were heard from all members. Lindsay applauded as well and smiled a little.

Once they were seated, the interview began.

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"So, Pizzazz," Lindsay began, "what exactly have the Missfits been up to since their last tour?"

"Well," Pizzazz licked her lips then accepted a glass of water graciously from one of the cameramen, "we've been rather busy. We held auditions for a new keyboardist then began the writing and recording process. It's been quite an interesting experience."

"What happened to Stormer, your former keyboardist?" the hostess asked. "Rumour has it was a nasty argument that led to you kicking her out of the Missfits."

"That's partly true," Roxy interjected. Pizzazz glanced at her.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Roxy nodded. "However, it was also Stormer's decision to leave. She was no longer happy being with us. She felt the atmosphere to be too restrictive to what she wanted to do. Musically, she was no longer compatible with the band."

"So where is Stormer now?"

Pizzazz felt a sly grin cross her face. From the corner of her eye, she saw the members of Gothic Misconception smile as well. Oh, they knew. Both bands knew but now . . .

Now wasn't the time to make that announcement. They were here for one thing and one thing only.

Tonight, the changes amongst the Missfits ranks would be announced and Pizzazz couldn't be happier for it. Thankfully, Jetta spoke up.

"Stormer is busy with another band," the saxist smirked. "And she's having the time of her life with them. We really do wish her and the new band all the best."

"So you've been in contact with her," Lindsay stated bluntly and obviously.

"Of course," Pizzazz nodded. "It was because of Stormer that we were able to make the changes that we needed to."

As soon as she'd said that, Pizzazz stood up and gestured to the newest members of the Missfits.

"We'd like for the world to meet the newest members to the Missfits. On lead guitar is Marcello. Jade plays the keyboards now and Starr plays the drums. Thanks to them, we were able to find a new sound that suits us. Together, we are the Missfits."

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"_Together, we are the Missfits."_

Jerrica's hands balled up into fists at that announcement.

She really couldn't fault the Missfits for wanting to replace Stormer on the keyboards. The Holograms had done the same thing when it looked like they were going to lose Shana. They had ultimately kept Raya because Shana had wanted to play guitar.

At that time, the Missfits had tried to upstage them by signing on Jetta. This time, though . . .

'They were so quiet about it. Makes me wonder why.'

The interview continued for a few more moments, with much laughter from the Missfits and Gothic Misconception. Then Jerrica stood up. She had some phone calls to make.

She only hoped that Gothic Misconception would be willing to sign on with Starlight Music.

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"Thanks for inviting us to come out here. It was fun."

Pizzazz glanced at the blonde-haired woman who had spoken. She had a bright, warm smile and an easy-going attitude. Pizzazz had liked her the instant that they'd met. A hand held out to be shaken. Pizzazz took it.

"No problem."

"Let us know when you're back in Philadelphia. Maybe we could get together to jam," the blonde winked.

"If schedules allow," Pizzazz answered vaguely. It was the truth, after all.

"Of course. Wouldn't have it any other way," she laughed.

Pizzazz opened her mouth to say something more when the studio producer walked up to them and interrupted their conversation.

"Excuse me, Ms Cronkhite but there's a Jerrica Benton on the phone to talk to you."


End file.
